Jessie is a very nasty boy. His father was Howard Pickering’s brother. You can see from his words he is no better then his uncle and father. How many Jessie Pickerings were in the pentagon and the WTC on 9-11? Not nearly enough. Hey Jessie. Everytime you see pics of 9-11 just think of me, and of all the kids your sadistic family tortured in Florida, because FSBO and M were reasons I did only a fraction of what I could have done to get the word out about the attacks. Those paybacks can be hell. Wait till a nuke goes off. We will see how smart you bastards are after all.

Yes, I knew about 9-11 since 1997 in detail, and I told people about it in detail wherever I went. Nobody wanted to listen. I have also been posting for years about Florida’s torturing children. Everyone said I was lying. Then, after the Whitehouse Boys started their web site I had evidence, but then the forums refused to post my entries because it showed I was right and they were wrong. You people are arrogant and all wrong. That is why you were attacked on 9-11. Fact is, they intend to nuke an Amerikan city. Guaranteed, if I were to find out about it and go around telling others, they would ignore, and the same three-ring circus of disinformation, lies, and propaganda would start all over again. You support that kind of government. You deal with the consequences, and stop trying to blame me. I was the only one warning and telling others.

Who is on death row? When was he in Okeechobee?
If he was the one they tortured for six weeks, his sentence should be commuted to life with possibility of parole. Any kid beaten that way was bound to turn into a killer.

P.S. There is also a friend on death row in Florida whose appeals have run out that was also victimized at Okeechobee. Time is of the essence.

deleted. Perhaps somebody does not like my

opinions. I have always thought the state

should have an act of war waged against it.

Somebody on dream book right now is advocating

giving the state bastards the electric chair.

I came very near to being murdered with the

foreknowledge of my so-called caretakers, and

they refused to let me have any medical care

for severe injuries. That tells me the state

and their agents considered killing me no big

deal. I feel the same about them. I remind you

I had known about the attacks of 9-11 since

1997. I am and was serious about that. The

same right back to them, and to anyone who

thinks he / she can take my life without

consequence. F**k them. I will tell you

this. I met Timothy Mcveigh. I believe it was

1994. We were in a donut shop in Stuart,

Florida roughly 15 miles from where Mcveigh’s

mother was living at the time. Mcveigh told

me repeatedly about making fertilizer bombs,

and he stated repeatedly they were definitely

going to attack government. I never spoke a

single word to the authoirities about what I

had heard. When the government says it is

acceptable to murder me, and later to torture

me, and to protect felons who have committed

several crimes against me, I say f**k that

government. There were times when the only

thing preventing mass casualties inflicted on

the state was my inability to obtain the

necessary technology to do the job. You may

think I am wrong, but I think I am right. My

enemies were not in Vietnam. They were in my

community, on the police department. and

agents of the state.

In Marianna I became Ace with a perfect record, and got out in about 4 1/2 or 5 months or so. I believe I was one of eight aces on both campuses, and the only one with a perfect record of no “grades.” I just minded my own business, hardly talked to anyone, followed all the rules, and never puked on anyone for anything. There was a time I was accused of being a puke because I was overheard telling a cottage father I would tell him anything he wanted to know. I did tell him that, but I did not actually tell him anything about what anyone else did. I just minded my own business.

I did quite a bit of boxing in Okeechobee, and wrote for the school newspaper a while. In Marianna I played horseshoes some. I worked in the laundry and was laundry supervisor under Mr. Cook, I believe his name was. I never went down in the white house, but I had to hold the bed twice in Okeechobee for a total of fifty-three whacks, 25 the first time, and 28 the second. All this time, adult criminals who had committed several felonies against me were living completely free and comfortable in my community on the outside, even after their crimes against me were common knowledge, and they had been reported several times. It was indeed a peculiar system, a miscarriage of justice, and a strange system devised by the perverted ingenuity of indifferent, inept brutal malefactors. In those days the state of Florida should have been seriously attacked.

I find that most of the flogging stories at both the Marianna and Okeechobee, Florida reform schools describe the same form of torture, just in different ways. Therefore, I will not go into my flogging by Emmet Davis in 1961, but instead I will write about another type of mistreatment; one that I participated in, one that bothers me to this day.

I had been in the Florida School for Boys at Okeechobee for several months when our Cottage Father Mr. Johns was replaced by Ray Crawford, former supervisor from the laundry. Johns was a former butcher for Safeway in the town of Okeechobee. How appropriate. Crawford, however, was a gentle, kind and loving man, not at all suited for some of the hard cases admitted into Adams Cottage. Nevertheless, Mr. Crawford promoted me to Cottage Supervisor and assisted in my advancement to the rank of Pilot.

Mr. Young was in charge of the school, and my beloved friend, Mr. Ayres, oversaw the print shop where I worked. Like Crawford, Ayres promoted me to Supervisor and assisted in my promotion to Pilot. Indeed, I had developed a warm bond with both Ayres and Crawford. Both were seriously upset over a beating that I had received a few weeks before, from Emmet Davis. Their sympathy over this beating had strengthened our bond.

Adams Cottage inmate personalities were as varied as one might find on any normal school campus. However, there was one boy, about 14 years-old, who was considered the cottage whoose, his name was Dickson. This lad kept totally to himself; he was ridiculed at cottage, school and at work. He was considered by most inmates as the lowest in our social order.

I have long since forgotten why, but one evening Dickson took a swing at me. Actually, he missed, and I thought little of it. However, the incident was witness by others. Later that evening, two of our senior criminal cadets approached me and insisted, “You cannot let him get away with that.” Suddenly, my rank and authority had been undermined by Dickson. I was faced with a dilemma. Do I even the score with Dickson and get into trouble with Crawford or wait until work and get caught by Ayres. Neither was acceptable, as I did not wish to destroy my relationship with either of these two beloved mentors. Therefore, I developed a plan where I would catch Dickson between the cottage and the print shop where I would administer the consequences of attempting to strike a Cottage Supervisor. The next morning, at the print shop, I filled two short pieces of lead pipe with printer’s lead and hid them in the alleyway behind the shop.

Two mornings later, on the way to work, I called Dickson into the alley, insisting that I needed to talk secretly with him. As I suggested earlier, he wasn’t too bright; he followed me into the alley. I quickly retrieved my hidden lead pipes and administered a severe beating to the young lad. In the process, one of the pipes cut into my right hand. Indeed, my hand was bleeding worse than Dickson’s lip and nose. When finished, I let him go, handed off the lead pipes to another boy, entered the Print Shop and reported for work.

About 15 minutes after work began, an aid from Director Emmet Davis’ office appeared in the front door of the shop. Davis’ aids were easily recognized because they always wore solid white. The aid pointed to me and motioned that I follow him. Another beating on “the bed” was an expected consequence of starting a fight. At that point, there was no doubt in my mind what was going to happen next. Yes! To retain respect and authority, it was necessary that I risk certain torture on “the bed.” I knew beating up Dickson would result in corporal punishment. However, not to retaliate could have been much worse.

When I entered Davis’ office, Dickson was sitting to one side of the Director’s desk, still crying and still bleeding. Director Emmet Davis looked at me and said, “Ray, Dickson said that you beat him on the way to work. Is that right?”

“No sir,” I responded.

Davis continued, “Dickson said you had something that looked like metal in both hands. Did you?”

No sir,” I replied.

Davis responded, “Dickson also said that he thinks one of the metal objects cut your hand, because he saw blood. Let me see your hands.” I showed Director Davis my hands, and of course, the cut on my right hand was still fresh and quite visible. Davis’ next response threw me into absolute shock: “Well then, I guess there is nothing to this. Ray, you may return to work and Dickson, get back to school.”

That evening, when I returned home to Adam’s Cottage, I overheard the same two senior criminal cadets talking about me: “How did he do?” one of them asked.

“Fine,” came the reply.

The ordeal was over. The only problem with this true encounter is that Dickson was a ward of the state, and the state allowed the beating that I administered to Dickson, without consequence. Oh, sure, perhaps Dickson deserved a slap or two for attempting to strike a Supervisor, but he did not deserve what I did to him. Davis allowed it because he too had labeled Dickson as a whoose. In sum, it would appear that at the Okeechobee School for Boys, being timid and shy, wearing common clothing and having social problems was a beating offense.

My attitude at the time was, “If I could take what Director Emmet Davis dished out, Dickson could certainly take what gave him.” However, in retrospect, I would guess that Dickson needed psychiatric care, not a beating.

Somebody shot Tim Gabriel between the eyes with a 22 caliber hand gun. E.B. Davis showed me a black and white photo of Gabriel after he was shot. Gabriel was laying dead on his back. His arms were outstretched. A few inches away from his right hand lay a knife. A small neat hole could be seen just above the bridge of his nose in his forehead, perhaps a bit to the right. Maybe there was a small pool of blood under his head. I saw this photo.

There was a story about the killing, and here it is, but it is only rumor, the story of how he was killed that is. He did run away. Somebody said he had stolen a scalpal from the infirmary, and stabbed Mr. Sult with it. Sult was the overall superintendent of FSBO. Then, as the story went, he got off campus and hid in somebody’s house where he got his hands on a knife. I would say having a knife or gun and using it on those state bastards would have been appropriate considering what they were going to do to him. Next, according to rumor, somebody came home, a woman they say, and found herself confronted by some youg guy wearing state issued pajamas, with a knife in his hand. The woman had a 22 derringer or some such firearn, and shot him in the head. Of course, I was not there, so I have no idea how accurate that story might have been. Later, I heard the stabbing of Mr. Sult had never happened.

This is my opinion, and I could be wrong, but the photo of the death scene looked staged. He might not have had a knife when he was shot. That knife might have been a throw down. It is possible he may have been murdered. I say this because of what I knew about the nature of that so-called aschool for boys, and because of what I knew and still know about the sadistic bastards in charge of the place. They were not above murdering some kid if they were sure they could have gotten away with it. No charges were filed.

Well, on September 11, 2001 some men from Saudi Arabia and elsewhere did not fail on an agreement made to me in 1997. If you think your government’s willful criminal negligence with regard to others and me is acceptable and above accountability, you must also feel their negligences toward detailed warnings regarding the attackas of 9-11-01 are also acceptable and above accountability, for I know without any question whatsoever I was well aware of the details of those attacks since 1997, and had told your so-called officers of the law in plenty of detail and in plenty of time to get things done; however, as usual, they did nothing. It was easily predictable. How do you like it when their will malfeasance results in consequences to your own interests? I have a strong feeling it is not over yet.

Here is another example of the kinds of underhanded policies they followed in those days.

I was walking along a sidwalk in my home town. The male principal of one of the schools I attended, not state but a regular school, came driving up. He invited me to go with him to a baseball game in Miami. I called home, and went with him. On the way to Miami this guy started putting the grab on my genitals, and started telling various kinds of pornographic stories. I could go into much more detail on this incident than I will right now. To make a much longer story much shorter, when he stopped at a Holiady Inn in the Miami area to register for a room for us, I got out of the car and ran away. I came to a restaurant. I went in and told some people what had happened. They called the police. Of course, he denied everything, and made me out to be some bad kid who made up the entire thing. They put me in juvenile detention and let him go; however, some sort of charge was filed somewhere.

Some time later this same person showed up at our house with some friend of his. He played up his role as innocent man wrongfully accused, which he most definitely was not. The statements I made against him were all absolutely accurate and true in ever regard, without exaggeration, without embellishment in any way shape or form. He categorically denied every one of them. They made some threats, something to the effect that they had important and influential friends, and if I went to a hearing in Miami to pursue charges, life could become very difficult for me, which it already was, and became even worse.

There is a lot more to this incident. If anyone is interested, I can provide more information.

This was one of many criminal offences committed against others and me in the state of Florida in the sixties.

OK. So they put me in a cell with this truculent guy who had gone pretty well psycho after having sniffed glue for something like almost every day for six months. This guy was about sixteen, and so messed up from sniffing glue his teeth were rotting out of his mouth, his skin was a pasty, ghostly white, and his hair was falling out. He told them he would murder me if they put me in the cell with him. He was going on about swome big conspiracy, having conversations with imaginary people, and blaming others and me for whatever. They put me in the cell anyway. The guy kept inventing conversations in his owm mind in which I had supposedly insulted him. Anyway, this guy attacked me several times. He was insane. You had to be there to understand how grossly unreasonable this whole thing was. Anyway, this guy got hold of a long piece of broken mirror and tried to slash my throat. he missed the throat but caused a deep slash on my shoulder all the wat so the bone was clearly sticking out.

I think the guy passed out. There was blood all over the place. The guards refused several times to let me go for medical attention. One advised him on how to lie in case there was an investigation. A so-called youth counselor named Henry Beckman came to visit. I told him what happened. He ignored it. They had actually encouraged the guy to do it. I never did get any medical attention for that. It was a lot worse than you might think.

The state stuffed their charred, burned bodies into garbage cans, and buried them in undisclosed sites in some field or wooded area. It was much later that the bodies were exhumed and reburied in more proper graves.

The two paragraphs of information above this paragraph in this frame are matters of rumor only. I have absolutely no first-hand information about those gravesites, and how they came to be. However, that was what I heard.

In reference to your note on the internet asking for information about abuses inflicted by the state of Florida.

I assure you without any question whatsoever, some of the people running those state schools for boys were sadistic bastards. They most certainly did torture kids systematically. They beat kids much worse in the Florida School for Boys at Okeechobee than at Marianna. I was present at many beatings at Okeechobee. They beat kids to bloody pulp. I mean that literally. Frank Zitch, Donald Johns, and Emmet B. Davis really seemed to enjoy their blood sport. In the mid sixties the beatings in Marianna were child’s play compared to the bloody torture going on in Okeechobee. I knew quite a few guys who were beaten in Marianna around the mid sixties. It was mild and light compared to the ferocious, sadistic torture meted out in Okeechobee. I was there when frank Zitch was being interviewed by a woman who identified herself as a reporter from some newspaper; I think it might have been the Palm Beach Post. I heard the questions she asked. I was right there. I heard the answers he gave. Zitch was lying through his goddamn teeth. The state put Tidwell, the one armed man, in Marianna, and Zitch, the one legged man, in Okeechobee.

John Howard was a cottage father in Marianna some time around 1965-66-67. He was a kindly man. Mr. Tidwell did not seem to be sadistic to me. He seemed friendly, but then again, he may have been very bad with others. We know he beat people. No question about that.

In the town I was from, government and police had peculiar ways of enforcing the law. For example, numerous crimes, misdemeanors and felonies, were committed against me by serial adult-felons living in the community. When I went to the so-called authorities to report the crimes, they simply failed to function; they did nothing about it. I remembr clearly going to police and authorities with legitimate complaints, and getting answers like “tough shit,” “that’s too bad,” “that’s your problem,” and “things are tough all over.”This kind of thing went on for years. However, if I did anything wrong, they swung right into action–against me. The system was either incompetent, corrupt, or both.

Some people in the state system, and some in the local systems were not there to help children. They were definitely there to hurt children. They were there for themselves because they were too low-grade to get better jobs anywhere else.

I read the part on the web page that said black kids were beaten worse than white kids. When it comes to Marianna, I cannot substantiate that statement. Blacks and whites were segregated. However, in Okeechobee they tortured both blacks and whites in the same room in the so-called adjustment unit. The blacks definitely got more whacks and harder whacks; this was true in general, but not always. I counted the number of whacks people received many many times. They even tortured mentally disabled children who should not have been there to begin with. In those days in FSBO, if a kid got twenty-five whacks it was favoritism. I know some got sixty whacks and more. I mean what to hell. I was there. The state should be investigated; it should also be attacked.

You may think my version of going to the law and being refused the service is an exaggeration, but consider these facts in more recent times. This may seem improbable to you, but I assure you without any question whatsoever, it is true. I was working in a college in South Korea in 1997 when I obtained detailed information about the-then coming attacks of September 11, 2001. From 1997 and up to and through the night of 10 september 2001 I told about 130 people about these attacks. Many times I named the exact targets, the commandeered, fuel-laden aircraft, people from Saudi Arabia, and the approximate time of the attacks. In 1998 I told Danny Carey of the Martin County Sheriff’s Department in detail. No follow-up. No investigation. No nothing I know of. In early 2001 I told a Mr. Osborne of the DOC, in detail. He twirls his finger in the air and says, “Sure, and I suppose they are flying around here right now.” No follow-up. In early 2001 I called 911 in Stuart and told them of a terrorist or guerrilla presence in the area, that they were planning attacks, and using airplanes. The night of September 10, 2001 I called some number in Fort Pierce; it was some bold print, seven digit number on the inside front cover of the phone book. I warned of a major terrorist attack coming “very soon.” I will admit, this guy really was digging for more information. I did not mention details as I had in other warnings. I reported these coming attacks openly in three countries to law enforcement people, experienced, educated people, not some rookie on the beat. In late 2000 I was in e-mail communication with the office of Governor JEB who I told I had some very interesting information that he or most anyone might find useful. I advised him I do not make statements like that lightly. I was planning to lay all the 9-11 information I had on the table to him. In the meantime a letter came from INS stating this: If you bring your children from China to the US, they will become wards of the state. To me that was a very offensive and threatening statement against my babies. I have told you here what “ward of the state” means in my mind. After that letter I withheld further information about 9-11. Can you expect such a person as me to try and save your day from catastrophe while your government is telling me they are predicting catastrophe for my children? Besides that, I told your law enforcement personnel in plenty of detail about the coming attacks. If they would not inform you and do something, and you are paying their salaries, why should I? Your state would not give me a job, even after I gave them perfectly good, detailed, information about major terrorist attacks against your own interests. What to hell people. You must be kidding. I mean, how goddamn negligent and stupid can a government be? I joined the military. They used real terrorist attacks against me. I survived it. Many others were killed, and many more were horribly mutilated. Again, I go to government with perfectly legitimate complaints, and once again I am ignored. Well, we saw your towers crashing down in 2001, and your pentagon in flames. I had known in quite some detail about those attacks since 1997. Try ignoring that.

I will be honest with you. I am not putting up a front to make a good impression. After what the so-called government system did to me, I really do not care if your government gets attacked. If your own officers are going to be that negligent, you get what you have coming.

At any rate, you solicited for information about torture and abuse by agents of your own state government. I assure you, they did beat kids to bloody pulps, and they did systematically torture some. No question about it. I do not personally know of of Mr. Tidwell being that hard on anyone, but my knowledge where he is the matter is very limited. Where Zitch, Johns, and Davis are the subject, I can tell you they were so hard on kids that when I told people what they had done, nobody ever believed me. It really was unbelievably cruel, and in so many cases it was totally unecessary, and not legitimately called for in any way. They just wanted to hurt people.

I know a lot more.

Regards,

10 April 2009